The Second Great War

Ennis Baron looked at her wife Rebecca, they were the only Wolvesh on the flight and they were now prisoners of the Rhuvish. They were both Lieutenants, Ennis in the public transport corps and she a nursery tutor. They sat quietly, staring at the door, while it was true they knew nothing of strategic importance they still expected interrogation and torture. Rebecca idly toyed with the nearby lamp, half expecting the room to be bugged "Making an escape attempt would just be stupid, I say we wait for the Khan to come." She sighed as she rested a reassuring hand on her wife's shoulder. Ennis nodded, she hated the thought of being captured and of putting off the inevitable.

As Amelia walked in the Führer's office, Ulrich welcomed her. "Guten tag, mein fraulein. Wilkkomen zu Rhuvenland." he said kindly as she stood before him. Him, Führer und Republikskanzler of the Rhuvish state, head of the military, dictator of the Republic, and surprisingly the champion of the Rhuvish people. Him, Friedrich Ulrich, Chairman of the National Sonacist Rhuvish Worker's Party, or NSRAP, also known as the National Sonacist Party, or NSP. There Amelia was, in his office; that gilded office, decorated with flags and banners, portraits and medals.

The two sat down, with Ulrich's guards all over the room and Bethany and Harriet behind her. Ulrich relaxed in his chair. "We have many things planned for you here, but only if you help me answer this one question." Ulrich paused, as Amelia looked vaguely intrigued. He then continued, "I'd like to enquire about the Rhuvish government employee captured by the Tajins. I'd like to negotiate a trade for his release."

3 weeks later...

Nebulan Declaration of War:

Having taken into consideration that the National Sonacists in Rhuvanland have committed human rights abuses and suppressed political opposition, the government of the Watching Nebula hereby declares war on Rhuvanland.

Click to expand...

"WAAAAAAAAR!" the people yelled. "TO WAR WITH THE NEBULAN SCUM!" All over the square, Ulrich heard cries of, "KICK THEM IN THE TEETH! KILL!", "KILL THE FILTHY BASTARD COMMUNISTS!" and "SMASH THAT DIRTY RED SCUM!" outside the Chancellery. He had just finished a magnificent speech concerning the destruction of the Nebulan scum who eternally hated Rhuvanland and aspired to turn its population into worker-robots. The grand Nazo speeches always impressed the people and this was no exception.

The Führer had assembled his troops. Nazo Rhuvanland, a single-party stratocratic dictatorship with 11 million citizens, had assembled an army of 500,000 forced, conscripted troops. It was very expensive to train them all and very difficult, but the end result was an army that could cause a decent threat to even the Syrixian Empire, with its army of 800,000 soldiers. A combined force of parts of the Nazo fleet of u-boats and warships, dubbed the Kriegsmarine, and parts of the Nazo air-force, dubbed the BLW, or bundesluftwaffe, headed for Nebula.

(OOC: I gave Syrixia an 800k-man army OOCly so that Rhuvanland's would be smaller. Plus 500k doesn't seem all that realistic for an empire of Syrixia's kind. Too embarrassing. Don't pound me though, I made the canon so Syrixia's always had this size army since Kumar's army reforms. Syrixia's been focusing more on technological weaponry improvements.)

"A few things? Pfft, I'm the best Artificial Intelligence of my kind, I can teach it more than a few things," said Ayuda. "Well you know who deserves a good lesson right now? Rhuvanland, ooh, I could shoot down some stupid Rhuvish soldiers," said Akerman, regaining her senses. "I'm glad to know I'm not the only one missing Alicia," said a voice, and the two turned to see Governor Hutchinson. "With all due respect to Leng, I want a chancellor to actually act when the sanity of a nation is infringed upon...and the Queen agrees. Emily, Sebt, the Queen can go against the Cabinet and authorize a small troop of soldiers to Rhuvanland, but...," she began. "The Cabinet must approve it...," finished Scottsfield.


"Exactly, looks like we'll need Sebt to speak to the Cabinet after all," remarked Hutchinson. "Sebt, would you be willing to talk to the Cabinet over GusNet, at this point you'd be the only one to convince these ministers to approve the Queen's override," she continued.

In the Veranto Building on 14th Street, the Cabinet listened as the Queen talked. "Ulrich will attempt to destroy our allies," she argued. "What, and you want us to be destroyed as well?", argued Fuller back. "What, is someone paying you to spit out this nonsense?", she asked, confused as to why the Cabinet was suddenly her enemy. "I for one stand with Her Majesty, Akerman is a sane woman, and our enemy, Ulrich, is not sane. If we have a chance at winning, now is the time to strike," argued Reeder. "Strike? Is this some kind of battlezone?", argued Leng. "Our nation will be one if we don't attack now," argued the Queen.

Caesar sighed, as Sebt hung up the phone. Finally, he could return to his tea. For a moment, the silence rang throughout the room. The Lictor-Magister indicated a tiny flashing light on the windowsill. With a nod from Caesar, he lightly pressed the light down. "Your August Majesty, there is a Mr. Heinrich Schlother on the line?" Caesar looked at the Lictor-Magister with a distinctly confused look. The Lictor mouthed back - Rhuvanland. The light of realization spread across Caesar's face, and he smiled in genuine pleasure at his working out the puzzle, before snorting quietly, a familiar hostility spreading across his face again. "Ah, yes, Mr. Schlother. The Rhuvish foreign minister. Put him through, I suppose."

"Ah, and the Pe -"

"Yes, you may listen in. By the by, send word to the Proconsul that she needs to get in touch with the foreign ministry of Wolfsea."

"Of course, sir."

Mallory hung up her call to Caesar, and took Schlother's line off hold. "Mr. Heinrich Schlother, his August Majesty will take your call now." The Peregrine-Magister leaned over, hitting a switch next to Mallory's phone, as she shot off an email to the Rhuvish Sacre Comitate.

---

Alba Longa International Airport
Alba Longa Service Terminal A

A smooth, professional voice crackled on Beth Moore's airplane radio, addressing her pilots.

"Thomas Air Flight THM2073, you're cleared to land on Runway 2. Taxi to Service Terminal A on landing, thank you. On behalf of Imperium, I would like to ask the flight crew to invite passenger Beth Moore to disembark immediately, and welcome you all to Imperium. A Lictorial Service representative will escort Beth Moore to her flight to the Rhuvish Sacre Comitate."

The airport was relatively barren. Alba Longa International was well-known for being perhaps the least frequented major airport in the region - at least, that wasn't in an active warzone. That being said, with all the aid that would be flowing into McMasterdonia, their airports would probably start giving Alba Longa a run for its money again. That being said, the terminals all looked quite nice - Alba Longa had started as a military airport, and Imperium put real effort into making it presentable and sharp. Sharp in that Imperium way, of course - practical and well-kept. Not particularly imaginative. No big glass facades, no lovely water features. Just good, hearty planning, and no crowds.

Sure, Imperium has some of the harshest border controls in the world, but ultimately, you don't have to queue to get through them. If it's an hour to get through customs, at least you're sitting down for most of it at Imperium. But none of that will bother Beth Moore. She's getting right on a helicopter to the Sacre Comitate, courtesy of diplomatic access.

A lady in an all-black pantsuit met her at the gate, alongside a number of customs workers, from the Limitorial Service. Like most who wore suits, male or female, in Imperium, she did not wear a tie.

"Good evening, Moore. My name is Gaia Salvius - I am to be your aide, until one can be appointed to you by the Rhuvish Sacre Comitate. As a Lictor, I am bound - " at this point, a customs worker gave Gaia a most curious look, which she returned, seemingly mouthing her speech as she spoke, " - to inform you that my loyalty lies to Caesar, and Caesar alone. As a diplomat, you are entitled to privacy from the Lictorial Service upon request." She nodded to the customs worker, who paced forward, and offered Beth Moore a hand.

"Good evening. I am a representative of the Senatorial Service Tribunal. It is customary in Imperium to offer diplomats arriving in the country the use of an SST burner phone, for use as a private, personal line. You may also use this phone to report abuses of power, or concerns regarding the conduct of Lictorial Service agents."

Gaia Salvius gave the customs worker a dirty look, before continuing.

"My responsibility is to accompany you to the Rhuvish Sacre Comitate, where you will be attached to the Vigilatorial Service. As a consequence, you will be offered an aide from that Service, and I will be leaving you. Until then, you may call me Gaia. We will be taking a helicopter - it will not be a long flight, as we are just crossing the strait to Pauldron. Please be aware that Pauldron is a military installation. I will issue you your diplomatic documentation now - you will, however, receive your military clearance documentation immediately upon disembarking at Pauldron. Do take care not to leave my side until you have received your clearance documentation, as it will complicate your stay."

Sebt nodded and stared at Sionne "Play nice..." He warned as he was patched in to the meeting"Esteemed Ministers, your majesty, Governor Hutchison, I regret being unable to speak to you in person as I'm currently still en-route to join my forces at the front. I am aware the cabinet desires a peaceful resolution to this sordid affair, but has it not occurred to any of you that Ulrich is not a reasonable man?" He paused "I have seen Ulrich's kind before, they covet power, their egos dictate their actions and they forget their first duty, to protect their people. Ulrich will be all smiles and patriotism until his crown starts to fall and when that happens he will buy stability in the blood of his neighbours, and with every conquest he will grow ever hungrier. This war is about preventing another Great War, we all know what happened then, the Smithworks tragedy, peace is something that must be fought for, Men like Ulrich are opportunists, they will wait until we believe nothing could possibly happen to strike." Then with some hesitancy he chose his next words "If Vega had had popular support would she have been any less of a danger to the region? Right now Ulrich stands ready to take the same path and this war is the only way we can stop his ambition. Caeser is willing to negotiate regarding the Imperium's claim, that at least is a battle that can be resolved at the table but Ulrich will not negotiate, to him we are merely targets to be swept away. Guslantis still licks her wounds from Vega's insurrection but I know your people have courage and determination." He sighed, hesitant once again "I know how these maniacs think because my own father was one of them, he desired conquest of the region. I had to strip him of his honour, his dignity and his family because of his madness and Ulrich is another mad dog threatening us all. I ask even if you cannot spare troops to aid us... At least help us find a compromise with Caesar, help us make sure that no more innocents suffer." He stopped, his voice was normally strong but revealing how he had become Khan, a responsibility he felt he had not been ready for at the time, was hard. Right now he was appealing to them not as Khan but as a man who had been wounded, who had been forced to banish his own parents to an isolated island to live out their days alone, shunned and hated by the few Wolvesh who still acknowledged they were still alive. Sebt stared at the cabinet, his eyes were sincere, he had no interest in conquest, he wanted to use his troops to try and keep the region safe. In spite of his usual demeanour of a monolithic, disciplined soldier the Khan was revealing the side he only ever showed to his family, a hopeful idealist who had been forced to temper himself with cynicism because he knew there would always be those like his father and it was only people like himself who knee these people had to be stopped, even if they would be reviled for doing so.

Sionne discretely smirked, something only Ayuda would see, the Khan was a stupid organic but he was a good man despite his belief to the contrary, she silenced her external audio "A pity he has had to resort to emotional outbursts... Still... The organics seem to enjoy a... Good sob story... He should not have any reason to regret his actions, Ein was a madman and he alone could beat him... Just as he was the first to see Ulrich's threat before those Imperium peacocks chose to strut around waving proclamations... If they hadn't decided to dance like performing chimps and sing to the rafters we could have resolved this once we had prepared. Idiotic Organics..." She sighed, aware Ayuda was listening to her.

The Emperator watched the events in Rhuvanland with a satisfied smile on his face. The Supreme Naval Commander stood behind him.
"This will go excellently," said the Supreme Naval Commander. "We can harass the fleet all the way up to Nebula with subs, bombers, and missiles. Once they're far enough away, our ships can maneuver with the Wolvesh and block their return. Hell, we could box them in now. If we get Yeraenn support, we can crush whatever's left when they get to Cronaal."
"How is our missile defense system at the moment?" asked Antlerio.
"The latest I've seen was that it should be in good working order," said the Supreme Naval Commander.
"Good," said Antlerio, opening a communications line with Khan Sebt.

"Ulrich did WHAT?!" Internal Minister Franck cried. He slammed his first down on the wooden desk, causing his cup of tea to quiver. "Der Krieg ist eigentlich verloren, wenn das durchgeht." Franck, Schlother, and other ministers of the National Sonacists had, since Ulrich's disposal of the Reichstag, tried to isolate Ulrich from the day-to-day governance of the Reich, but oftentimes Ulrich took action, like an impulsive young boy, without consulting anyone. Ulrich scorned foreigners, he scorned bureaucrats, and he spoke of himself as a messiah. But he was no god, he was a Caligula and the sooner they could get him to hand over the reins of power, the better.

"But we cannot simply withdraw the fleet," Schlother spoke, sitting in the chair opposite Franck in the latter's office. He had just finished his discussion with the Latinate Caesar. "Ulrich has ordered it himself." Franck nodded and understood as much; their one mistake was to give Ulrich so much power in the first place through propaganda. None of the other Party leaders held as much charismatic legitimacy as Ulrich. To rescind one of Ulrich's orders would hurt the prestige of the Party and the morale of the people.

"Reroute the fleet to Shei Ren. And for God's sake, reorganize the damn fleet so that we actually have a chance! Reorient the fleet around our motherships, the aircraft carriers -- need I say more? Follow standard military doctrine! Who the hell signed off on this expedition in the first place?" Other things needed to be done. The Phoenix Strait needed to be secured, and of course with this expedition to Shei Ren, there was little doubt that Syrixia would be provoked into joining the fight against Rhuvanland.

A courier boy ran into the office and saluted. He placed a stapled stack of papers on Franck's desk, saluted again, and then left. "Well, Rhuvanland now has over a million active troops. Prost to our recruitment officers."

Beth nodded as Gaia spoke, intently listening to the woman speak. It was such a shame that the aide would be replaced, as Gaia seemed to be fitting enough for her, however, she assumed that all aides were as friendly and as helpful as the aide standing before her. The man that interrupted Gaia offered her use to a burner phone, to which Beth declined. "No, no, I'm fine. I'd like to use my personal when I reach the leg of the journey where I may. The Cabinet prefers the use of video-chatting, so that they know I'm safe and sound," she said with a smile. The customs worker annoyed her, even though she had just met the man. The fact that he had no patience to wait on letting Gaia finish, and he seemed to act as though he was on a high-horse above both Gaia and herself. He reminded her a bit of Debra, though the Minister of Entertainment probably was less egotistic than this guy. Gaia continued, explaining their transportation to the Pauldron, and how she would be given military clearance.

"I don't mind riding on a helicopter, it is actually more prevalent for us to ride on helicopters than airplanes in Pigletville, so I'm used to the type of flight," she explained. "I'm ready to serve Imperium, Caesar, and the Rhuvish people, we shall not delay," she said, ready to go.

Meanwhile, inside the Veranto Building, the Cabinet finished listening to Sebt. "Yeah, I think this *whole* situation would have not happened if you or I were to be leader of Rhuvanland. In all of my experiments, the only lasting error I keep finding is that of human error. By the way, not to be too curious, but may I ask of your programming? Are you considered to be feminine or masculine? Do the humans prefer to call you "he/she" or "it"? Is your name phoenetic, or by letter?", Ayuda asked, responding to Sionne.

As the bots were conversing in the mainframe, Minister Reeder looked at Chancellor Leng, who nodded. She then looked at Scottsfield, who nodded. Then to Baldwin, another nod. Then to Leopard and Nagarkar, who both nodded. The Queen smiled, mentally counting the nodding heads. Her eyes fell on Fuller, who looked around at all the Cabinet. "If the Cabinet is a majority, I see no reason not to make it a majority," he said, laughing. "You heard the minister, your highness, we accept your override of our non-intervention policy and may send the order to Akerman," said Leng.

Sionne looked, attempting to find a visualisation of Ayuda to better address him "I have no direct preference, I was programmed to do the job rather than to be what my creator Dr Serizawa called User-friendly. However my interface was slightly based upon his sister so I suppose I am intended to be female." She explained. It was clear she functioned well but her personality left much to be desired. "As for my name it is an anacronym but it is pronounced She-on, after the Etrebean goddess of the mind. All my creator's idea. I am curious as to why you have not modified your interface to display a humanoid form, you do have a holographic avatar? Or was that to great a temptation for your creator?"

Sebt allowed himself to relax and give a soft smile "Thank you all, naturally I must ask you all to keep the exact nature of my father's fall from public knowledge. For us as a people it is still a very raw wound. I look forward to arriving in Guslantis soon but for now I'm needed by the Imperator, it seems there's been a development, good fortune my friends, Sionne will remain interfaced with Ayuda to ease communications." Switching to Antlerio "Imperator, I'm assuming we have good news?"

'I'm unaware of anyone being captured,' answered Amelia. 'You see, I've been traveling.' Amelia turned to Harriet, raising an eyebrow in question. Harriet shrugged which told her she didn't know either. Amelia returned her gaze to Ulrich.

She calmed her nerves for what she had to say next. There was no point in lying so she decided to be blunt and honest. 'If you're suggesting a trade, me for this captive, you should understand my father will refuse. While he wields absolute power in theory, in reality his authority relies on the loyalty of his nobles. Trading for me would make him look weak and severely hamper his ability to rule. He's a King, and the kingdom must come first.'

She could tell that Ulrich was a little put off by what she'd told him. He was likely weighing his options. 'You should also know, harming me will unify those same lords, giving my father complete authority that he will use.'

"Trading for you? Hah. That would be ridiculous!" Ulrich replied. "You're here on that very same trip. Please, do enjoy our country. I was wondering if you would want to trade your captive for the entire roster of passengers of your flight. The hotel you stayed in at Schwarzenau also serves as a detention center, so to speak." Amelia gasped. She was most likely stunned. Ulrich had literally just told her that. Either he was dumb, or that was intention; and it was most likely the latter. "Alternatively, if you refuse, you can kiss Tajis and Esplandia bye-bye, as well as your chances of ever seeing your homeland again. I would never harm you, but I would certainly allow you to visit the plane's passengers at Schwarzenau..."

Ulrich smiled.

So he intended to trade Esplandian citizens for the agent? That made more sense. She took a second to consider the situation.

'My father would likely agree,' she answered. 'Is this agent being held in Esplandia or Tajis? I assume Tajis, right.' Ulrich nodded.

'Then I suggest you let me go. As long as you hold me my father won't negotiate. Like I said it'll make him look weak, but if I'm not here, he'll trade for your captives because doing nothing to rescue them will also make him look weak to President Anaukshai.' She hoped he'd believe her. Her father would eventually negotiate for her, but he'd never give up the spy unless she was already safe. Her biggest worry was what Reynard Anaukshai would do if he learned of the captives before her father. 'Tajis is our most important ally. Reynard depends on Esplandian aid. If my father requested him to give you the agent, he would have no choice.'

"Oh, I'll let you go." Ulrich calmly said. "But you tell your dear old dad that that trade will happen. I have troops on the Tajin border right now, and if the Rhuvish captive is not released by the Tajins, I will make the Tajins Rhuvishmen."

Pauldron Military Base
We are the Door.

The helicopter landed not too long after, at Pauldron. Coming down on some stout building, as the cloud cover cleared, Beth Moore was treated to the fearsome display of a modern-day armada gathered around Pauldron. The motley cargo and passenger shipping that usually crossed through the straits around Pauldron were now neatly ordered, giving Pauldron a wide berth as communications towers on both sides of the straits micromanaged the two-way traffic.

Dozens of troops swarmed the helicopter as it came down, most of them wearing suits with no ties, as Gaia was. A couple, however, wore more traditional camoflauge - albeit in the navy grey perhaps unfamiliar, but known, to nations with less coastline than Imperium. Pauldron was avowedly a naval base, although Moore suspected that many of those wearing suits were likely attendants of services beyond just the resident navy.

A few hand-signals from those in uniform seemed to push everyone to preplanned positions, a seemingly unnecessary choreography. From her seat, Moore could not quite see how most of the men and women paid each other as much attention as the helicopter. At least, until it touched down.

As the helicopter came to a halt, and the rocking stopped, Gaia opened the side door, and jumped out. An eerie silence filled the immediate surrounds of the helicopter, as the rest of the base bustled. Stepping forward, a woman approached Gaia - almost...warily. Her black hair seemed of no particular note, and her lips were pursed tightly. Indeed, her jaw was set sternly, but from the nose up, she had a soft, kindly expression about her. She looked...weary, in fact, as her eyes softened the tension in her jaws. "Lictor - the representative's documentation." Reading through it, she quickly signed it with a pen from her inner pocket. As the woman helped Moore out of the helicopter, Gaia prooffered the documentation to Moore, with a concise utterance - "This is Lucinda Vera Silvester. She is your new aide." She neatly saluted Moore in the August manner - one arm across the waist, and bending the head - before leaping back into the helicopter. The eyes of everyone in attendance followed her.

Lucinda stepped back behind Moore, ever so slightly. Moore almost missed Lucinda's arm lightly bristling behind her waist - being familiar with helicopter transit, she quickly became aware that Lucinda intended to be in a position to push her out of the way from any unforeseen issues with the helicopter's take-off.

As the noise died down, Lucinda offered Moore a hand. "Lucinda Vera Silvester. I am, as the Lictor said, your new aide. I'm a police officer from the north - a rural town near New Intelligensia. You'll find I'm more familiar with your traditions than most in Imperium. I did a lot of relationship building with the police force on New Intelligensia - a major international cultural hub, and that lead to me becoming one of the officers in the New Intelligensian Occupation Government. The Proconsul added me to her staff when she was rotated out of New Intelligensia.

My sincerest apologies for all the trouble - we're in rather a rush. Usually, you'd have an aide from the Peregrine Service - our Foreign Ministry - but as a military observer, the rules are somewhat different." A gentleman walked up to Beth Moore, handing the pair a small notepad. Lucinda continued, "And this would be your little black book. Don't lose it - it has phone numbers for any relevant servicemembers you may want to contact. The Proconsul's personal number is in there, as is mine, and your contact with the Peregrine Service - who I assume would be this gentleman." The gentleman spoke curtly, "Good evening - the name is Samson," before backing away.

"If for some reason you should ever want to contact the Lictorial Service, your contact with the Lictorial Service is listed at the back - Gaia, whom you have met already. Finally, the inside cover has a number to the Augustine Office. If you are in an emergency situation, contact the Proconsul first, and then the Augustine Office.

Now that all the formalities are complete, I'll take you down to our command centre." Lucinda smiled, and indicated a small staircase at the back of the helipad. An armoured bus shuttled them from the helipad to a very impressive command building, a building of stainless steel and concrete to which a disproportionate amount of love had been given. It was at this point, as the sun broke through the sea mist for the first time, that Beth Moore realised how uncharacteristically colourful everything was. The walls of the command centre were clearly concrete grey in some places, but that grey was simply between rather striking graffiti murals. Here and there, colourful tags broke up large tableauxs of both war and peace. While in places the paint was faded, and chipped, a bright, vivid tag proclaimed proudly - "Long Live the Proconsul!" The 'o' in 'Pro' was rather cheekily adjusted into a fairly passable caricature of what, Moore assumed, was the famous Praefect Hilaria da Vinci Ignatius - the new Proconsul of Rhuvanland.

It was a short trip, and before they knew it, they were at the Proconsul's office, in the guts of Pauldron. Moore had the distinct idea that they were still underground, having been driven into the ground via a fairly shallow slope running down the side of the headquarters. Lucinda gave Moore an apologetic sigh - "this likely isn't fare you are familiar with. Your unit is down here, too, but if you wish, we can move your temporary office and lodgings to one of the ground-floor units. The Proconsul works and sleeps down here, as protection from aerial attacks. You won't be staying here for long - the Sacre Comitate is just about ready to deploy, once given the order."

As the door opened, Moore was met by the rather shocking sight of the Proconsul in person. Her ruby-red hair was as striking as always, glinting in the LED lights of the office. Her piercing grey eyes cut sharply through the cacophony of vivid photos and colours across the walls, and the black-and-white murals all over the floor. She had to turn to face Moore, torn from her poring over paperwork strewn all over her outstretched legs - one boot rested on the desk, the other on an empty, upturned wastebasket. A radio looked rather out of place, lying there, and Moore quickly spied an ethernet cable - were she technically inclined, she might figure that the radio was actually a weighted facsimile, its controls routed to a real radio somewhere upstairs.

Lucinda almost subconsciously bowed her head. "Proconsul Hilaria, the representative from Guslantis is here to see you. Beth Moore, Proconsul Hilaria." Lucinda silently wandered to a side of the door, taking a seat underneath a photo of a large galleon.

The Proconsul stood, offering Moore a hand. "Hilaria da Vinci Ignatius. You may dispense of my title - it's pretty meaningless, for the time being. And you would be the representative of Guslantis. I assume Lucinda has brought you here for introductions -" a furious nodding virtually shook the earth "- and so that you can ask any questions you may have, and vice versa. You are welcome to go first, as I've already written mine down." Hilaria indicated a closed notebook, with a childish smirk. "Any questions about the Proconsulate, about Imperium, about myself, I'm your woman!" Hilaria returned to her reclining position, indicating a rather cozy looking chair next to Moore.

The Nebulan fleet at Shei Ren sailed to meet the Rhuvish. Nebula's best admiral had been put in command of the fleet, and it was a large one. Seven out of ten Nebulan vessels were in it.
"Deploy fighters," ordered the admiral. "I want our radar range extended as far as possible to detect that fleet early on."
The Nebulan aircraft carriers began to slowly deploy their payloads. The sky was soon thick with fighters swarming in formation above the carriers.
"Should we deploy bombers, sir?" asked a commander.
"Not until the Rhuvish are detected," the admiral replied firmly. "Send out the fighters."
The fighters raced toward the horizon. Within seconds they were little more than black specks.

Sphan sighed in dejection. His leg had been killing him lately from the unusually cold weather, and he had been making a large number of calls to people he did enjoy talking with, and now he was about to call the person who was almost literally his mortal enemy, all in the name of profit. With a heavy sigh, he swiveled to his computer, and made a call to a number that his Informants had found.

The line picked up, as he knew it would. He looked directly into the screen, leaving no emotion on his face. "Ken Zhu of the Phra Dong Triad. I have a business proposition." He smiled, a Cheshire grin that didn't seem to offer any comfort at all, "It's gonna be an offer you can't refuse."

Ho smiled on the other end. Sphan didn't even know his name. Was that how good at their job his mafiosos were? Damn.

"What is your offer, K'ter scum?" Ho replied.

"Your insults are not appreciated, Ho, especially as I come to you in business. As you are no doubt aware, there are two rather powerful navies sitting essentially in your front yard. Those of my friends, the Neül'va, and those of your allies, the Rhu'uvä. These allies of yours have taken it into their heads that Shei Ren is to be invaded, and directed their fleet here. My allies are here to prevent that from happening. Unless, of course, you reject my proposition. If you agree, you will be let to live, with a few caveats, of course. The first, you withdraw operatives from Althafen. That city is ours. Second, you stay out of my business. All of it. Third, you stop supporting the Nazos. Do I make myself clear?"

"You stay out of our business, and I will be glad to keep you and your nation from certain doom, Mr. K'ter." Ho replied. "But, if you insist, go ahead and invade the tiny, worthless island of Shei Ren, and watch as no harm is done to my Triad and the condemnations roll in against you." Yeraennus had taken the bait. Truly, the PDT could care less about Shei Ren even though they were Sheireni in origin. Their crime network was global. If Rhuvanland was focused on Shei Ren, Ho had already known that the K'ters and the Yeraenns would probably go there to "destroy the PDT".

When that happened the PDT would strike again, ruin the K'ter forces in Althafen, and also frame Yeraennus for working with the Nazos. They'd then start secret attacks by PDT insiders in Yeraennus and have everyone think that the Yeraenn people did it, leading to international discontent with the Yeraenn government. Then, Rhuvanland would be coerced to invade Yeraennus, kill K'ter and dissolve the K'ter mafia as a repayment to the PDT. If Rhuvanland refused, the PDT would have Ulrich killed. Ho smiled. Neither the Nazos nor the Yeraenns controlled this war.

The forces of life and death were both in the hands of the Phra Dong Triad.

Suddenly the PDT screamed in on the K'ter forces in Althafen, as Rhuvish air support and reinforcements came to wipe out the Yeraenn military forces in the city. Massacre was left and right, and Yeraenns fell in droves. Ho knew that Ulrich was a psychopathic megalomaniac. He could care less. This war was not about morals, or territorial claims. It was about money, and the PDT had already won.

Rhuvish Internal Minister Franck remained seated on his couch, comfortable but composed. With an extended hand he entreated his colleague take the couch across from him in the small room. A little lamp on the table between them gave the dimly-lit room a sleepy atmosphere. But Foreign Minister Schlother stood, pacing around the room. He twitched his head and stopped behind Franck, turning. He opened his mouth as to speak, but hesitated, and then hushed himself. He continued pacing and twitching and glancing around in the room. "Bitte, Herr Schlother. Hören Sie auf mit dem Schreiten und schon setzen Sie sich," Franck said after a while.

Schlother stopped and forced a smile. "Perhaps, erm, perhaps you'd like some music?"

"Please, Herr Schlother. Who do you think you're talking to? I am in charge of electronic surveillance in the entirety of Nazo Rhuvanland. Do you think I would bug myself? Please, sit down."

Schlother nodded, paled, and obliged. He slid into his spot, sinking back into the soft cushion. "Yes, yes, of course."

Franck cleared his throat. "Now. If I'm correct, there's something you want to discuss with me that you don't want our dear Leader overhearing. But of course, as I am the Chancellor's eyes and ears, you have not exactly chosen the best confidant for your scheme..."

"But you won't turn me in." Schlother's bald head glistened, his lips held taut. He held Franck's gaze for several seconds.

Franck relented. "Yes, I won't," he admitted. "That man -- that damn fool -- he is getting us into something we can't survive. He has been my friend and yours, but he'll get us all killed and Rhuvanland destroyed. He will be the man known in the history books as the herald of the apocalypse. He is our death."

"Yes!" Schlother's eyes lit up behind his glasses. He jumped out of his seat, fists clenched. "Genau, Herr Franck, exactly. You understand!"

Franck held up his hand and Schlother fell silent. Schlother sat back down. "Yes, you and I are on the same page. But that man is a complicated problem."

"Make him relinquish Party power."

"Wieso? Who will tell him and why? He is at the height of his glory. We are looking at a conquest of Taiji and a naval war with our enemies soon. The country will not switch horses, and the Army will not support anyone but him. He is still the Architect of the Nation, the Helmsman of the Ideology, and such and such. It was a damn mistake for the Party elders to give him so much power, but without him, we couldn't have gotten here today," Franck sat back dejectedly. "He is too powerful. Without Ulrich, the state apparatus we have constructed would collapse."

"There is still the Party Central Committee," noted Schlother with hope. He leaned forward, eyes widened. "Talk with the Party elders. Make him resign his posts to the Party."

Franck shook his head. "The people would rally around him, the Army would still support him. The Party elders would be too cowed to do anything. As long as he is alive, Herr Schlother, we will continue on this path to our destruction."

"But -- "

Franck leaned forward and lowered his voice to a hush. "Ulrich muss sterben. Es gibt keine Alternative."

Beth smiled, prepared with the questions. "I'm sorry if I must ask, though Governor Hutchinson said research is key, but may I ask on all these titles and services? Guslantis is a very organized place, but we like to see to it that we focus the attention and titles to the ones at the top, most of our lower government officials are just called hands, as they do all the hard labor of our force. You, however, seem to have a plethora of titles and service names, and to be honest, it is a little confusing," she asked the Praefect. "Also, not to sound bratty at all, but is this too powerful of an outfit? Would it be better for me to wear an outfit of the military?", Beth asked.

Meanwhile, Ayuda answered Sionne. "I do have an avatar, though it is not too exciting," he said, transforming into a holographic orb. "Alicia promised to make sure my true form was represented in a mobile platform, as the humans would refer to as my body, which is why my avatar is so...bland. I too am programmed to one gender, which is the masculine one," Ayuda explained. His voice suddenly switched to a feminine voice. "I, however, was programmed using both a male and female voice option, though I tend to use the default one as to not confuse humans who think it really matters whether I am a male or a female. I am neither, I am merely just a bot with vocal attributes. I am theoretically genderless. Call me what you'd like, Sionne, I do not have a preference. My name by the way is pronounced Ah-Yoo-Da, and means help in one of Guslantis' official languages," explained Ayuda.

The Proconsul leaned back in her seat, nodding politely.

"Well, I'll start with the Services. A Service is, basically a single command structure. So, for most nations, a Service is roughly analogous to a Department. Instead of Ministers, we have Magisters - instead of a Minister for Education, and Research, we have a Scholar-Magister. I'm a Praefect of the Vigilatorial Service - my boss, so to speak, is the Vigilator-Magister.

The Vigilatorial Service is something like a combination of police and crisis management - fire services, crowd control, et cetera. If it can be done without guns, that's us. We also coordinate neighbourhood watches, and undertake armed patrols, although the latter isn't our bread and butter. Our armed counterpart is the Urbane Service - the Urbaners, under the Urbane-Magister, are what you would know most typically as SWAT, or counter-terrorist units, and fixed security. The Limitorial Service handles border control - they are our coast guard, our customs service, and air marshalls.

Unlike most nations, we don't have a Department of Defense - the three major common forces are independent. The naval and aerial services, I think, speak for themselves - the terrestrial is simply our army.

Beyond that, the other services will not come up too much during your stay - or, at least, you won't need to remember them. The exception, as always, is the Lictorial Service."

Beth Moore noticed a rather pronounced distaste in Hilaria's voice for this last service.

"They're the personal kis - servants of Caesar. Their service is responsible for...internal affairs, and...Senatorial unity. They generally...are not overly popular with the other services, and their personnel have the potential to be either the most or the least powerful individuals in our government, depending on how good they are with a gun and a kind word.

If you want to avoid August internal politics - probably not an option for you, although most of us will be polite enough not to force you into it - you can always make friends with the Medical Service. Pharmacists, medics, psychs, et cetera. Pretty much everyone from the Medic-Magister down is sworn to political neutrality. And, as a result, they tend to get second helpings at mess time.

I've gone through 8 - there are 7 more that I can tell you about in less detail, as they probably won't be too involved in all this. Censorial - the Censors - handle cultural affairs and telecommunications. Fiscal Service handle money, payroll, and the like. Speculatorial are intelligence and espionage, while Exploratorial are special forces. The Divine Service are the servants of the Paxcist Church, and also include people who are literally servants of Caesar, as opposed to the figurative manner of the Lictors. They're armed to the teeth, and also manage the substantial personal affairs of the Augustine Office, and large portions of August government welfare. The Peregrine are our foreign service, but also have a substantial portfolio in handling trade and foreign assets. Finally, I mentioned the Scholarials earlier - they manage education and research. Universities, and schools, and so forth.

Most of the seven I mentioned in that last breath are involved in the Rhuvish Proconsulate in some capacity, but won't be crossing paths with you all too often."

The Proconsul offered Beth Moore some water, and a small tin of butter biscuits magicked from a cupboard under her desk.

"Regarding titles, it's simpler than you think. Imperium's public service is effectively a military institution - it evolved out of the military, over generations, and hence retained much of the same tradition. Our public service has a fairly strict uniform policy, which reflects the formal dress used by our military services - our military services being the Terrestrial, or Terres for short, Navals, and Aerials. So, anyone who is in what would be considered a public service, a government official like a diplomat or a doctor or a teacher, has a military rank. A Praefect is the lowest level of what you would call a 'General officer'. So, equivalent to a Brigadier-General in many nations.

As a Praefect, I'm immediately above the two Tribune ranks - Tribune Angustus and Latus, Colonel and Lieutenant-Colonel respectively. And above me are the other Generals - the Legion and Imperial Legates, which are a Major-General and Lieutenant-General respectively, then a Dux - which is an ordinary General, but translates to Duke, and finally the Magnus Dux - a Field Marshal, or Grand Duke. There is only one Magnus Dux, who serves for life and is appointed by Caesar from the Magisters. Currently, the Magnus Dux is my boss, the Vigilator-Magister.

Of course, that all gets thrown out the window, given that I'm also a Proconsul. That's not a rank - that's a position. As a Proconsul, I rank on par with the Duxes, and below the Magnus Dux. Pretty cushy position, I'd say - although, as you can imagine, not many soldiers are particularly happy with a Proconsul from the police force. But I'm the only one with any experience in maintaining an occupation government, even if it was in an allied nation as a caretaker."

The Praefect sipped some of her water, before turning an eye to Beth Moore. She looked Moore up and down, her eyes narrowing comically as she strained to keep from being drawn to those rather lovely murals on the floor...

"Hmm. This is Imperium - we are used to overdressing. That being said, we are on the war path. There's going to be a lot of activity to keep up with, and once we're en route, you'll definitely want something that'll fit in with the crew, if only to keep you safe. Our naval vessels are...not known for being roomy, or particularly user-friendly. Most of our crews have grown up on the sea, or at least given the sea a good seeing-to since their youths. For now, your wear will do, but there'll be a change in your cabin, once we're on our way. We'll have a change for you in your temporary lodgings, too, in case you were expecting fatigues upon arrival. Given your position, of course, we'll have dresswear out for you - military dresswear is pretty decent wearing, in Imperium, and if you leave out the jacket, hat, and dress-boots, it might as well be regular fatigues. We'll have a set of thermal underwear in your cabin, and your current bedroom, too - you won't find much use for it here. Pauldron gets a brisk sea breeze, but you'll probably only be wanting for them once we hit deep ocean. We'll have changes of those ready for you, too, for the trip."

Hilaria grimaced slightly, almost imperceptibly. Almost.

"And don't worry, the Lictor told us your size."

Hilaria took another sip of water, almost as if to calm her nerves, before continuing.

"Now, it is my turn for a question or two. How fares our case, regarding Rhuvanland, in the Democratic Union? We, of course, have agents to keep an eye on such things, but at best, we can only preempt statements already intended for the public. Your security, you'll be pleased to know, precludes us from getting anything out of the DU before journalists can.

And, on that topic, how fares our case in Guslantis? With so many people to move from her past your strait, to Rhuvanland, it would be exceptionally helpful to have your government at the very least nominally supportive of some intervention - so our forces can depend on yours for, if anything else, emergency aid."

Sionne pondered for a moment "Intriguing, it seems our creators had a penchant for whimsical and symbolic names..." she remarked "You are certainly more user-friendly." she noted, considering whether or not to improve that part of her programming.

---

---

In light of the renewed forces now pledging loyalty to the regency government of Queen Amira, Imperium now sees it fit to return the territory of New Intelligensia to the government of the Honourable Queen Amira.

As we prepare ourselves for war with the Rhuvish swine, we must not forget our commitments to our allies. As we speak, the former Praefect of the New Intelligensian Praefecture has taken her role as Proconsul of the Rhuvish Proconsulate. Now, however, we must continue the process of deoccupation. A Diviner-Praefect has been dispatched to Queen Amira to personally oversee the transfer of New Intelligensia, under Benazir Bhutto, from our suzerainty to that of McMasterdonia. As a necessary step in that process, we have chosen to formally detach Chair Benazir Bhutto from August Service - New Intelligensia is now officially a civil institution, for the remainder of its time in Imperium.

We shall continue to withdraw from New Intelligensia, as Benazir Bhutto fills the structures we have worked tireless to instate for her, and for her rightful sovereign, with the bright and bold minds available in New Intelligensia. We trust, fully, that the students and faculty of the universities of New Intelligensia have come to understand and respect the role that Imperium plays in the world - as a loyal, and trustworthy ally to sovereigns in good standing, and as a ruthless defender of sovereignty against the barbarians of the outer world. We hope that Benazir Bhutto will take on our freely given advice as she fills the positions now being vacated by our services, with those students and faculty who have volunteered everything than was left to them by their civil war to the cause of stability, and sovereignty. Those who have served Imperium and McMasterdonia alike will be rewarded for their loyalty, not to our crown, nor to Benazir Bhutto's chairship, but to their nation.

In the coming days, we hope that Bhutto will be making appointments along the lines, but by no means identical to, the suggestions prepared by our Services. However, from this day forward, New Intelligensia will again make its own course, as has been promised by the Augustine Office - a promise we have upheld for centuries. We are confident that that course will take them back to their rightful sovereign, to whom we now cede suzerainty over New Intelligensia.

The 1st New Intelligensian Praefecture will immediately be redeployed to attach to the Rhuvish Sacre Comitate. The Vigilatorial, Urbane, and Limitorial Services will continue to offer support to Benazir Bhutto upon request, on a mission-by-mission basis, from their standing manpower, until relations can be fully normalized.

CAKE!!!

On the screens of the Nebulan, Augustan, Wolvesh, Guslant, and Esplandian leaders, a message indicating an incoming call lit up. The ID of the caller was simply marked "K'ter" and had a small Yeraenn flag next to the name. Sphan K'ter's voice and image came through, fingers steepled, leaning forward in his wheelchair, face grave. "Leaders of the opposition to the Rhuvish Government, I send this message as a request to use a technology already in place that could bring about this war's end more swiftly than a blood-soaked push onto the beaches of Rhuvanland. It is not nuclear, it is not chemical, nor it is biological. Civilian impact is minimal, and destruction is massive. I ask for your permission to use it upon the Rhuvish state as soon as possible. Time grows dire, and the Rhuvish push into Tajis territory, making swift victory crucial to the continued protection of the people's freedom the world over. If you allow it, I will explain further."

Sebt raised an eyebrow, the Ravens had already begun their mission to disrupt what remained of the Rhuvish fleet at their moorings. The mines would detonate within the hour as the 2nd fleet approached with the Trinnish "Go on?" He asked, cautious about this weapon.

Machine gun fire echoed through the craggy hills of Lower Shinai, Tajis. The Nazo forces had slammed into the Allied Tajin and Esplandian forces like a fist, punching through their positions along the border. The Alliance forces had fallen back nearly six miles in a single day and we're now putting up as much resistance as possible in the dry volcanic crags.

Warden General Nathaniel de Alayn watched the fighting taking place in a narrow valley a mile away and below him. It was obvious that the Nazo army was nowhere near as trained as his own forces, but they made up for it in numbers and combat experience. Most of Nathaniel's own troops had never seen combat. The last war Esplandia had fought in was forty years before.

An artillery barrage crashed down throughout the valley, crumbling the canyon walls down on Esplandian troops.

The Warden General turned to his aid. 'Have the sixth battalion keep falling back,' he commanded. 'They need to get atop these ridges, not trapped in that valley.' The aid saluted and took off at a run towards the command center, which was an old farmhouse now being used for radio equipment.

An explosion below drew the General's attention. He raised the binoculars. A Rhuvish tank had been taken out and was now burning, but three more tanks were already pushing their way past the wreckage up the valley.

An aid came running up, saluted, then made his report. 'Colonel Baerad reports the Rhuvish have overrun the lines along the Ascontin shores. They'll reach Ancar by nightfall.'

The General nodded and motioned for the aid to wait. He studied the fighting going on below for another two minutes. More Rhuvish were pushing up the valley. If the Rhuvish pushed past Ascontin then they would be behind his forces and could march unimpeded clear to Serzulem. He turned back to his aid and gave the order to withdraw.

---

As soon as news of the Rhuvish attack against Tajis, Sherwin summoned the Landesgrad in Karthied and laid out his formal declaration of war. The Landesgrad approved the declaration. Within twenty four hours of the attack, the declaration was sent.

To the warmongering state of Rhuvanland,

Your appalling act of aggression stands as proof positive that any overtures of peace your vile government have ever stated were false. No longer shall Esplandia attempt to curb your expansionism with kind words and patient action. War! War is our answer against you.

Esplandia hereby, unanimously and without hesitation, declare war on the Sonacist Republic of Rhuvanland.

Signed,
Sherwin IV, King of Esplandia

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---

As the Proconsul of Rhuvanland, I, Proconsul Hilaria da Vincia Ignatius, wish to acknowledge the formal Declaration of War made by the Esplandian Landesgrad, under the Honourable Sherwin IV, King of Esplandia.

It is our understanding that the Declaration is made in regards to an invasion force of Rhuvish troops crossing into Tajistan, as aggressors in this war.

Caesar's intention has always been to wait for the response of the international community, such that we may properly enter war with an assurance that our claim to Rhuvanland will be respected in full upon the conclusion of our war. However, this is no longer a luxury available to the Sacre Comitate. Our suspicions of a nation no longer capable of the courtesies of sovereign life have been proved true. Rhuvanland has brought not war, but genocide - they have given no declaration, nor any quarter. Instead, they maraude, as barbarians.

It is with great pleasure I can announce that Caesar has authorized the departure of the Rhuvish Sacre Comitate in the direction of Rhuvanland. Furthermore, it is with great pleasure that Caesar divests the powers of negotiations and diplomacy otherwise reserved for the bureaucratic apparatus of the Rhuvish territory.

I, therefore, wish to discharge my duties as Proconsul, by formally requesting the right to base our fleet and airforce from Guslantis, and the latter from Tajistan, until such a time where territorial air and naval assets can be secured.

We furthermore wish to acknowledge the spirit of negotiation that has been shown to us by Wolfsea. Whilst we are not yet prepared to promise conditions or concessions regarding our sovereign rule over Rhuvanland, we are prepared to conduct our war with an understanding of the sovereign legitimacy that is due it and its Coalition. As a result, we are prepared to assure, with expectation of same such, any and all operational information at a sufficient level of detail and expediency to minimize collateral damage, and to minimize immaterial costs to the Coalition war-effort (i.e. time, and strategic planning assets).

Finally, we wish to make it known that the southern straits of Imperium will be closed for an eight-hour window, to be announced at its commencement, in the next 24 hours, as the Rhuvish Sacre Comitate departs Pauldron and its assorted bases across the nation. In accordance with our obligations towards Alainn, shipping will remain open through our northern strait, and state-to-state shipping will be permitted via land on an expedited and subsidized basis, for goods destined for Alainn.

Furthermore, an Aerial Legature is to be raised - the Sixth Rhuvish (Aerial) Legature. This Sixth Legature will be responsible for operations out of Imperium, and will be a priority for basing to Guslantis and Tajistan, where they will operate for the duration of the war as support for the free-floating Second Legature, and to harass Rhuvish military forces outside Rhuvish hardpoints. From this moment forward, the August Aerial Service is operating at a universal state of Full Readiness.

flemingovia:

Syrixia:

Esplandia:

The Tajin special forces were dropped into Rhuvish territory, escaping detection from the Nazos by cover of night. They arrived at Schwarzenau airport in the early morning before sunrise. After a quick reconnaissance of the hanger where the prisoners were kept, they moved in.

The initial assault went well. The outer guards were dispatched quietly and then the hanger was breached. A quick fire fight dispatched the guards around the prisoners with only a few civilian casualties. Extraction was called as the Tajins gathered up the rescued passengers. However, shortly after a large number of Nazos descended on the airport, and heavy fighting commenced.

The helicopter enroute for extraction was recalled due to the heavy resistance. The Nazos stormed the hangar and captured the surviving special forces.


(OOC: This takes place after Amelia has left Rhuvanland, just waiting on Syrixia.)

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[THIS PART OF THE POST REDACTED]

300,000 Rhuvish troops amassed on the Tajin border. They stormed across the border checkpoints like a horde. The Tajin forces would obviously be better-trained but very few strategies, if any, could outdo being outnumbered 20 to 1. Ulrich had given the order to invade Tajis.

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Admin Note: Syrixia, this sort of post has been reported before, and you have been cautioned about it. Ignoring a caution has now earned you a rise in warn level.

If it happens again i will assume that you are deliberately flouting Admin, and the consequences will be extremely severe. If you want to remain a presence on this forum, knock it off.

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My sincerest apologies. I should have paid more attention and/or remembered previous warnings when writing that post. It won't happen again.

In compliance with the personal orders of Führer Ulrich regarding captured enemy commandos, the captured Taijian operatives were to be executed. Ulrich had not specified which method. Internal Minister Franck had ordered that the soldiers be shot by firing squad. It would be outrageous to the honor of military men if they were executed any other way. Franck watched with a blank expression as the executions unfolded. Each Taijian soldier was paraded in their uniform before the line of Rhuvish soldiers and offered a cigar. Then the drums would sound, the corporal would bark orders, and the line of soldiers would discharge their bullets at the red brick wall, in front of which stood the prisoner. Bodies collapsed like sacks of potatoes, lifeless and broken.

This was the casus belli. A declaration of war was broadcast minutes before the first Rhuvish units were ordered into Taiji. It read out like an indictment: several counts of aiding Rhuvanland's enemies via moral, political, or financial support; one count of violating Rhuvish sovereign territory via the commando mission; etc. The same day, however, the Rhuvish government did roll out a series of indictments of its political enemies. These included the heads of certain religious groups that had not followed the Nazo party line sufficiently enough, as well as communists, democrats, socialists -- anyone who was not a Nazi. Wehrkraftversetzung -- subversion of national defense. Feindbegünstigung -- favoring the enemy. Defaitistische Äußerungen -- defeatist statements. These charges were a Nazo novelty; they had not existed under the democratic regime. Another round of arrests and indictments and guilty verdicts followed, with Nazo bully judges haranguing their victims before their inevitable death sentences. Fear gripped the streets of Rhuvish cities. The state-run shops still had employees loudly advertising their products on the streets, but otherwise the streets were silent; the Rhuvish walked around in silent and hushed huddles, out of fear of being overheard and their words misconstrued. A wintery atmosphere settled over Rhuvanland as the news rolled in through the TV and the radio. The threats of war by Taiji, Imperium, Nebula, Wolfsea... the news was wrapped in words of Nazo defiance and pride. "Lassen sie kommen!" Let them come! But while the young men and teenagers sang the patriotic songs ever loudly, the elder folks sat with glumness in their living rooms. Death was coming, once more.

Franck had redeployed the fleet sent to Shei Ren to Taijian waters. With the official start of hostilities against the outside world, Rhuvanland would need its fleet. Two days after the beginning of the land invasion, Rhuvish bombers appeared from the horizon on the Taijian coast. With supersonic speeds and low-flying they avoided radar until they were well within striking distance. Anti-radiation bombs struck radars in air bases; other radar stations closer to the Rhuvish land border were simultaneously attacked and disabled by Rhuvish special forces inserted by helicopter. Rhuvish warplanes bombed runways and hangars, leaving the burning, smoking ruins of airbases. The Taijians were simply overwhelmed by numbers. The Rhuvish war machine had been built after years and years of warfare and now consisted of magnificent fleets of bombers.


Der Kongress des Kannexischen Reich hat die Kriegserklärung gegen Rhuvanland gerade verabschiedet.

"The Appeasementpolitik of the Chancellor has clearly failed! It is because of his incapability to contain the Rhuvish problem, that we are left with no choice but to join all other sovereignty-respecting nations of the world to join this war against the Rhuvish. Had the Chancellor, from the start of this crisis, adopted a firm position agains the Rhuvish -- " "Hear, hear!" "-- we would not be having this problem today!" shouted the Nationalist congressman.

The Kannexan congressional elections were to be held soon, but the invasion of Taiji left Chancellor Jörg Henneburg with no choice: the Kannexan Reich had to take action on Rhuvanland.

Sphan nodded, indicating his thanks towards Khan Sebt. He shifts, moving some papers in front of him, as he reads the notes on his Project over. He continues, "I shall continue then. The Project was originally planned to be released later in time to the international public, but circumstances have brought it's release earlier. This project is referred to as GUNGNIR, the god's spear in an ancient religion.
"Let me be frank, Project GUNGNIR is a Railgun. For those of you lacking understanding in this technology, Railguns fire a non-explosive projectile at incredible speeds through electromagnetic currents propelling the object along two rails at incredible speeds. Now, for the numbers. Each unit fires a 3 kilogram payload at 2.4 kilometers per second, faster than most conventional arms. Each impact has been calculated to do approximately 2.1 tons of TNT in total energy.
"We have 8 of these units, positioned on 8 Typhoon class warships outside of Rhuvish waters. Each is pointed at Althafen. Each weapon is completely operational. Two launches from each weapon would destroy military assets in the city to a point where invasion is practical. You might ask, 'why can bombardment not continue until the city has surrendered?' That is because there are serious drawbacks. Each set of electromagnetic rails only handles a handful of shots before they become unreliable and, inaccurate. Chance of civilian casualties would be too great to continue.
"So, in the interest of a swift victory, I ask for your, permission to fire. Thank you for your consideration."

The old Democrat sighed as he heard the news. The authorization of military action was confirmed by the Kannexan Congress, so he now had free rein to handle the Rhuvish threat. Kannex was to be at war once again, years after the end of the Great War. Henneburg had spent the first years of his chancellorship denouncing those upstart Congressmen of his own Democratic Party for their war-lust, and of course opposed the conservative opposition for theirs. Yet Henneburg knew he had made certain decisions -- necessary for the occasions -- that dented his message. Henneburg had ordered the end of the Great War. He had, like his warlike predecessors, sent brave young Kannexans to their deaths, and now he was to do it again. Henneburg wanted a peaceful Kannex. He had attended the funerals of too many good men, sons and brothers and husbands. The trumpets would blare and the honor guard would fire into the air. The coffin, draped in the red-white-red colors of the Kannexan Reich, would be lowered into the ground, buried forever. Henneburg had witnessed the grief of mothers a thousand times over, the light of their life, their children, having been extinguished so early from their lives. He saw fathers looking forlorn, their faces and hopes dead as their sons. All dressed up in black. War was no party. How many times did he have to tell the world, tell Congress, tell all the voter watching the national debates on TV, that war was a terrible thing?

Henneberg stood from his desk with much difficulty. Near the end of yet another term as Chancellor, he was now suffering from back pain and host of other problems of old age, though his publicists did everything to hide it. The Nationalists would not forgive his physical weakness. He trudged to the window, wearing a deep frown. "Admiral Jang's fleet is einsatzbereit, no? Pass down the orders."

---

Rhuvish waters.

"Rohr eins bis vier, klar."

"Schusserlaubnis." Permission to fire.

"Rohr eins, bereit."

The crew waited with bated breath as they waited on their captain. The mustached Rhuvishman was silent, watching the target through a scope. Finally, he gave the order: "Los!"

A crew in the torpedo room pulled down a lever.

"Rohr zwei, bereit."

"Los!" Another lever pulled.

"Rohr drei, bereit."

"Los!"

Torpedoes launched from hidden u-boots at the edge of Rhuvish waters. The missiles propelled themselves through the water like sharks launching towards their targets. The Yeraenn warship stood in their sights. Across the sea, seven Yeraenn warships found themselves under attack...

Sebt nodded "Very well. I agree to the use of your railgun."

Herman Gauste whistled happily as he went about his patrol along the harbour, the fleet was deployed somewhere, he didn't know where but his job was just to guard the docks, not send the ships out. He was actually quite jolly, after all it would be days before the battle at sea ended and even if the Argent Alliance broke through there were still a good twenty ships in this port alone. It was true he hadn't voted for the Nazos but he was a soldier, it was his duty to defend Rhuvanland. As he softly hummed a tune from the Cabaret bar on the other side of town he felt a cold edge at his throat before he heard a harsh whisper "I'm giving you an option, scream and I slit your throat and dump you in the harbour." the voice was clearly not Rhuvish or friendly. Herman nodded "I'll take the other option..." he whispered. He was realeased and turned to stare at a man dressed in a black cmbat suit, armoured, at the small of his back was a machine pistol in a waterproof holster and on his back was the unmistakable sword that marked him out as Wolvesh but worst of all was his mask, which appeared to be a rebreather or respirator of some sort, this man was a Raven, the Khan's personal Special Forces division. Herman's heart raced, what was this... thing... after "I have a family..." he gulped, it was so unsettling being unable to tell what the person facing him was feeling but, despite the distorted voice, he could tell that the Raven couldn't care less. The Raven tilted his head "Good, get them out of town... if needs be find a place to hide and make sure your neighbours know, we have no interest in killing innocents or men like you... we've been watching you and your comrades... we have made our warnings, I hope you heed this one. Ulrich is your enemy, not us, the honour he gives you is filthy, bought in innocent lives. Inform your people to get away from the fighting. This is the only warning we shall give..." the Raven finished before slipping off the quayside before the soft movement of muffled oars could be heard as Herman spotted three canoes paddling out to sea, carrying Ravens. He gulped, why would the enemy deliberately tell him, him of all people, about an imminent attack. He sighed, not sure what was going on before the first explosion happened, then another, and another. He turned slowly to stare at the source of the sound and his jaw dropped, at the waterline of each warship a huge hole had been gauged out of the armour, water filling the hulls as they began to sink. The water was relatively shallow so hey were salvageable but this was just beyond belief.

The News broke even to Ennis and Rebecca in their prison the next morning, they expected Ulrich to want to see them now. a quarter of the remaining Rhuvish ships had been incapacitated at ports along the coast. Although there had been few casualties the fact that such a raid had taken place and had been so successful was enough to knock the Rhuvish Propaganda machine out of alignment as the news spread, indeed people had been building shelters and leaving the towns to get away from the imminent invasion. Rhuvish U-boats were vanishing with only confused final transmissions giving some clue as to what was happening. That was when a guard was heard running past the cells to speak to his comrade, they babbled rapidly in Rhuvish before one distinctly mentioned the Wolvesh. Ennis could tell something had happened before one of the guards opened the observation slot "how? How the hell did you do it?!" "Did what?" Rebecca spat, clearly in a bad mood after they had refused most of their food before it had been force-fed to them, the soldier shook his head as if to reassure himself he was in charge "Your warplanes... they appeared out of nowhere and took out our main radar for the coast... our air defences barely registered them before they hit and got out, HOW!" he screamed, it made no sense to him, three planes appearing out of nowhere, flying at barely 50 feet above sea level, so close one survivor alleged he saw one of the pilots flip him off, and then fly out and just disappear. There had to be a logical reason for it but no ships had been detected within range. Ennis smiled "That's for your stuck-up pig of a Fuhrer to find out... just before the Khan slices his head from his fat little shoulders..." clearly relishing the terror. The Guard punched at her through the slot, enough to knock her back but not cause injury "Shut up! Psychotic Bitch!" he spoke, rembling as Rebecca eyed him furiously "My brother is probably one of the men who blew up your little boats last night... I hope, for your sake, he doesn't find you before I do... because I'm going to cut off that hand for hitting my wife..." she snarled.

Meanwhile the second fleet was ready, Trinnish and Wolvesh forces prepared to begin their bombardment, if they could force the Rhuvish to pull back from the Tajis/Esplandian front then it would give them a better advantage. Meanwhile Sebt had already dispatched a message to Esplandia and Tajis and he hoped the invasion form the south would pull at Ulrichs resources and ease things up for them. The Invasion of Rhuvanland had begun. The Wolvesh and Trinnish attacking from the south-east. The Iron Dome was useless as the Ravens, working with Yeraenni groups began their campaign of sabotage, taking out air defences and radar as fast as they could, they suffered heavily but their mission was complete. To the North the seventh legion awaited the Kahn's arrival, it would be a few days before they could reach the border but word had already gotten around that the diversionary operation was already underway.

Herman watched in awe from the hills outside of town, hugging his family close. Through a set of field glasses he could see the Wolvesh flagship turning a gun when, suddenly, the battlecruiser that had survived the raid began to slip beneath the waves, smoke and steam surrounding it. Through the glasses Herman saw the hull tear apart, cut open by the Wolvesh weapon, their infamous Heliocannon. It didn't take long for the guns to fall silent as Wolvesh and Trinnish troops entered the town, meeting no resistance. It was strange, Ulrich had said there would be looting, raping, mass slaughter but none of that was happening, indeed all that happened was a Trinnish marine officer accepting the Mayor's surrender. Herman remained on the hill until the evening, watching the invaders unloading their equipment, the town was ridiculously peaceful, in fact the regular drinkers were causing more problems than the enemy troops who, for the most part, were just leaving the Rhuvish civillians to get on with their lives. a few had been confronted by angry drunks and Nazos but even they had been dealt with non-lethally "What kind of madman fights a war like this?" he asked, dumbstruck by it all. His wife Gerdr smiled "Does it matter? The town is still intact, that's all that matters." huddling close to him as they began their walk back home.

Sebt watched the updates with a sense of grim satisfaction, he had never had any intention of firing the Corona's main gun on the towns but even hearing about such a weapon and seeing it in action had been enough. He was still an hour from the Guslant border, from there he would be taken to join the VIIth by helicopter. He hoped Akerman, Abigail and Nancy might be there to greet him but they were busy, it was understandable if he had to make do without the greeting.

The Rhuvish Reichsmarine redeployed in two fleets to face the strikes. Without a doubt the Argents would attack from Trinster as well; now the Rhuvish also needed to defend in the south. In a wide elliptical formation across the southern sea, the battle group consisted thus: two aircraft carriers served as the foci of the elliptical formation, with a ring of escort surface ships encircling. Submarines were scattered across the formation, situated mainly in a ring on the fringes of the formation, but some were located inside to escort the motherships. The bulk of the fleet consisted of frigates and destroyers enhanced by guided missile capabilities; some ships were specialized for anti-submarine, anti-aircraft, or anti-surface roles. As soon as the vanguard of submarines detected the Argent fleet, the attack began. At the moment, the Rhuvish southern fleet advanced at an angle to the Argent fleet, attacking the left flank of the Wolvesh. Like a sudden rush of wind, the Rhuvish aircraft appeared from the horizon and struck the Wolvesh fleet. Bombs and missiles rained down on the flank of the Wolvesh fleet as sailors screamed for cover but found none. Submarines, having detected part of the Wolvesh fleet, began their offensive at the same time. Their torpedoes locked onto their targets and swam faster than any living fish could, making their way into the metallic hulls of ships where men would live and die.

To the northwest, Rhuvish panzer groups faced the invasion. As the news of the southern Argent fleet's advance came in, the Rhuvish air force began launching cruise missiles on Trinnish cities and military bases. Corvettes and submarines struck Trinnish ports in pre-emptive strikes. Ships sunk in their harbors.

Fighter planes could not be spared for the north; they were occupied in the southeastern theater defending against the southern aerial attacks. With every bombing the Argents paid for in lives; the Wolvesh and Trinnish bombers found themselves swarmed by what seemed like wasps, entire wings of Kannexan-manufactured fighters fell upon them. The previous wars in Rhuvanland had prepared the Rhuvish well. From spies in Kannex, the Nazos had gathered that the Kannexan fleet would not arrive at the southern theater for another few days. Their only hope was to sufficiently destroy the current enemy fleet before the bulk of the Argent alliance could assemble.

Rycho Anaukshai, governor of Cailut and leader of the National Conservative party threw open the doors to the presidential office, and stormed in on his brother, the president of Tajis. He noticed his brother's personal guard place his hand on the firearm he no doubt had on under his gray uniform.

'Oh, Rycho, I wasn't expecting you,' his brother said, flashing a half-hearted smile. 'What can I do for you?'

Rycho stopped in front of his brother's desk, made a quick glance around the office and made sure no one else was present, then returned his gaze to his brother. 'Stand up, Reynard!' He said.

His brother laughed. 'Are you going to try to strike me?' He asked. 'Here in my own...' Before his brother could finish Rycho stepped around the desk and drove a right hook into the left side of his brother's face. President Reynard Anaukshai rocked backwards far enough that his chair rolled up under him and he crashed to the floor. His guard drew his weapon and placed it against Rycho's head.

Rycho glared sideways at the gun, but ignored it. 'You stupid, stupid Paeglut,' he spat. 'This is what you wanted? A war that will destroy us?'

Reynard picked himself up and straightened his tie. He motioned for his guard to put away his weapon. Reynard touched at his face where a bright red mark was already growing. 'I have great faith in our Esplandian friends,' he said. 'Besides, how long do you think the Rhuvish will last?'

'Long enough to burn every Tajin city,' Rycho answered. He looked at his brother, a man blinded by his own dream of an expansionist Tajis. He was little better than the Nazos. The only difference was his ability to hide his own political beliefs. 'Esplandia must mobilize. It will take months. By then the Nazos will be feasting in the Tower of the Almoners, drinking the holy wines.'

'You're lack of faith in me is surprising,' his brother stated. 'When we were younger you always trusted me.'

Rycho ignored his comment. 'Tajis will burn, and that will be on you. If we survive this I will do what is necessary to see you removed from office, and your arrogance made public.'

'You and your party has no power in Tajis, you have nothing,' Reynard spat.

'I have the Kadaeva, and she is already in Esplandia.' The look of shear terror was more than Rycho could hope for. His brother had been a fool, thinking he held all the cards.

'Return her or I'll have you shot,' Reynard commanded.

'No you won't,' was all Rycho said before turning and leaving the office.

Even as the submarines began their assault, the order came in to fire. Eight shots, one right after the other, rang out across the water, flinging their deadly charges across the ocean. Two minutes later, they would impact with Althafen, crashing into it like their name sake, the spear of a god. The first attacks struck the ships, rocking those hit as their second shots were loaded. Typhoon class warships would not be sunk by a single torpedo, not even a northern hurricane would bring them under easily. The second volley ripped off, and was in the same recoil that the warships began their turn on the assaulting Rhuvish, like wolves among brave sheep. From the southwest, away from the Typhoons, fast moving underwater projectiles pinged on Rhuvish sonar, indicating a larger fleet just beyond detection of the U-boats. Two minutes later, the U-boats would find themselves routed, and Althafen would find itself razed by bolts of destruction from the horizon.

To the Beloved Nations this Matter Concerns:

The Proconsul looked out at her Proconsulate, from the balcony of the Command Headquarters. As the drone of administrators and military minds carried on behind her, she watched fighter aircraft take to the skies, taking on holding patterns as they waited for their Tabernae. As the 6th Legature was mustered together, the process of rebasing had begun in haste, as elements of the 2nd were reassigned to that distance formation.

Hilaria had never left Imperium, except on duties requiring her in New Intelligensia.

She was so very excited to see Guslantis. And Rhuvanland.

How it would be to see it from the skies. They said the Aerial Service was Caesar's Own. Watching them, she could see why. Why he was so drawn to the skies, to the land above the land. As a Praefect, she knew a bit about such military organization, and the civil aviation that followed it. They had holding patterns, planned and memorized over months of practice, and combat maneuvers, and formations, all of which were as fluid as the winds that they assailed.

Oh, she'd never considered that sort of thing. Even if she had, her eyesight wasn't good enough. She'd never had that sort of twitch response, that sort of penchant for feeling where one was. No, she was the kind of person who came up with protocols - who understood how people worked. Could see a city for the roads. Talk a robber down and all that. It was a good job. A decent job.

A job that was nothing like organizing thousands of airmen to rain the fires of Hell on foreign nations.

Hilaria put her mask on. The sea spray was unbearable at Pauldron. It got in her nose, dried her mouth.

She could only imagine how much more of a pain it would become, as the vessels of the Rhuvish Sacre Comitate finally started to depart.

---

The Sixth Rhuvish (Aerial) Legature was to be redesignated as the First Carrotopolis Legature. It would form the backbone of the independent aerial operations of Imperium in the region of Rhuvanland, until the Second could be deployed from Tajis, or from secured assets in Rhuvanland. Their first priority was to secure air superiority in the northern airspace of Rhuvanland, and to support Tajis air operations. The Wolfsea Coalition was, as it stood, evenly matched against the total commitment of assets by Rhuvanland against what they could support via naval air arms. Bringing to bear a full Legature operating out of Guslantis would likely dominate their northern airspace, and open a way for the Second Rhuvish to conduct long-term distance bombing against Rhuvish airfields and military assets in the north.

More importantly, it would open a way for large-scale bombing runs in Rhuvanland. It would be internationally unpopular, the Magisters had concluded, but it would be well-worth it. With the utter naval domination that would easily be achieved by the Wolfsea Coalition, especially when bolstered by the Sacre Comitate, it was likely that a blockade of Rhuvanland would be total. It was for this reason that Hilaria had received approval to, should she see fit, deploy napalm and chemical weaponry on farmlands and agriculture in Rhuvanland. It would be possible to starve Rhuvanland out, whilst avoiding the urban areas that would no doubt soon be hardened to aerial attacks through costly evacuations and anti-air weaponry. That anti-air weaponry would have to be suffered in striking military assets, but it would be too costly - both through the collateral damage that would have to be assumed by Imperium after the war, and through the potential casualities - to attack cities and towns.

Burning farmlands and scrubs would be more efficient, and more effective. A Rhuvanland incapable of self-sufficiency after the war would be totally dependent on major agricultural exporters - like Imperium. And without the incredible rhetorical power that a self-sufficient Rhuvanland held for Ulrich's party, dissent and revolt would become exponentially more tolerable to the general population, as the cost of war became apparent. Without rations to send to the front, their military would start picking over the corpse of the Rhuvish economy. It would not be malicious, or treasonous. They would retain their precious party loyalty. It would even become shored up. But how hard would it be to remember that for every favour one does for the navy, for the army, one takes the food out of their own airmen's mouths to fuel the reputation and achievements of rivals who would not do the same for you? They would be staunch party loyalists, deserving of every scrap they got. But...how loyal could they trust their officers to be? Their enlisted to be? It would be an army of starving loyalists, who couldn't see their allies for the meat on their bones.

But...not yet. While the Aerial-Magister had wanted to test the air defenses available to Rhuvanland in the north, the others believed that the Rhuvish resistance in the south and the relative lack of aerial support reported by Tajis news outlets revealed a serious flaw in their strategic planning. This was the time to attack and maim their capability to secure aerial superiority - while they were overstretched well into the seas. After aerial superiority was all but unrecoverable. Then they would burn the farms, and salt the fields.

Caesar's mandate to the Carrotopolis Legature was simple, and outside Hilaria's control for the moment. Gather forces, create 'ghost chatter' - ultimately inconsequential communications between the Legature and Wolfsea's naval administration - and give some token support to Wolfsea. Then, when the Legature had rebased at full-force, strike Rhuvanland like the hammer.

Wolfsea and their pack would be the anvil.